White Daisy Passing
by brazzo
Summary: And I place a single white daisy on your tombstone, cause I know they're your favorite. CAM
1. Chapter 1

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Summary sucks and the title will make more sense later.

**CarlyxSam Femslash - Rated T for safety, haha.**

**I do not own iCarly or any of the characters within. Sadly. **

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It was Wednesday, raining and cold. Fredward and I were already at Carly's loft waiting on her patiently. Well, I say patiently. It was all I could do to just sit there staring at the muted TV and _not_ punch the dweeb's face in. He was going on and on about some stupid idea for our webshow, iCarly. I had other things on my mind. Much more important things.

Carly would be home soon. She and Spencer had to go drop off their dad at the airport. Captain Robert Shay had just come back home to Seattle after two and a half years at sea, but the month long leave still wasn't enough for his kids. If you could call them that. Spencer was grown, a 28 year-old man. And Carly, well Carly had grown up pretty well herself. She was now 16 to my 17 and man was she gorgeous. Not that she ever wasn't completely beautiful, but these last few years she had really begun to fill out. And more recently, I've really begun to notice.

Crushes are hard. Especially if they're on your best friend. Who happens to be a girl. And a straight one at that. I can't tell you when I started thinking of Carly _that _way. When I look back on my life with her, I think I've always liked her deep down somewhere inside of me. Now I can tell you when I realized this. It was several months ago, during the summer.

Spencer took Carly, Freddie, and me camping at the beach. We spent the whole day playing in the water, building sand castles, sunning, and just goofing off. That night was devoted to toasting marshmallows and hot dogs around a bonfire while telling "scary" stories. Of course, none of them frightened me, mainly because of the way Spencer could never keep a straight face when trying to be serious, if only for a moment. But the one I told – about a group of teenagers who were picked off one by one by a malicious serial killing cannibal – seemed to make an impression on Carly.

That night when we went to sleep, Carly and me in one tent and Spencer and Freddie in another, I noticed Carly jumping at nearly every sound coming from the beach and wilderness around us. I asked her if she was okay and, naturally, she said she was fine. But I knew she was lying. I beckoned her to scoot closer so I could protect and comfort her. She did. She laid her head on my chest and I snuggled her close, keeping one arm tight around her waist. We woke up in the exact same position, neither of us moving an inch all night. It was while I watched Carly sleep, twirling her long dark brown locks in my fingers that I realized. I realized that I didn't love her like a best friend should. I was _in_ love with her. And that's when things started getting complicated.

So I sat there in silence with Freddie. Sometime between me threatening his life with a bone from the ham I was picking apart and me falling into a completely cliché and teenagery daydream about Carly's backside, he finally shut up about whatever techy, iCarly crap he was going on and on about.

"You think she's gonna be okay?" he asked me, breaking the silence.

"The question you should be asking is if _you're_ gonna be okay when I shank you with this ham bone." I sneered at him. I wasn't lying when I said I had my mind on other things. Freddie was making it more and more difficult to imagine how I was finally gonna tell Carly my secret. That for the past several months, she's all I've been able to think about. That not being with her was slowly breaking my heart and that I needed her to feel complete. I had decided to tell her tonight when I stayed over. I had to tell her or I felt like I was going to explode.

"Sam." Freddie said calmly. His tone made me look at him from across the sofa. I took in his features. He genuinely seemed worried.

"What is it Fred-weird?"

"Do you think Carly's gonna be okay? You know, when she and Spencer get back?"

"They're just dropping off the Captain at the airport. It's not like it's a funeral or something. He'll be back."

"Yeah, but Sam, he's their _dad_. You know what it's like to miss somebody like that." He almost made it seem like a question rather than a statement.

"No." I replied simply.

"You don't ever miss your dad?" he asked me.

"Nope. Never."

"That's not normal." I was starting to get ticked off now.

"No, Fredward, what's not normal is your face."

"Funny." He said dryly. I glared at him for a few minutes before picking myself up off the couch and taking the half eaten ham back to the refrigerator.

"Well it's not like my dad misses me, so why should I miss him?" I called out on my way back to the living room.

"Why wouldn't he miss you?" Freddie inquired. He seemed really interested. For some reason this bugged me.

"Carly never told you?" I asked him. He shook his head. "Of course. Carls isn't one for gossip."

"Gossip?" he asked. I sighed and sat back down.

"Look Freddork, if it'll get you to shut up..." I began. This was much harder for me to explain than it should be. "My dad left when he found out my mom was pregnant with a girl. Said he wanted someone to 'carry the Puckett name.' Something like that. Though, I doubt if it really had anything to do with me at all.

"But my mom blamed me. That's one of the reasons we fight all the time. She apparently loved him or some stupid crap and he just up and left. That's also probably one of the reasons I am how I am today. A tomboy." I stopped to consider whether or not to go on with the story. "I dunno, but I guess when I was little I thought that if I acted like a boy and could beat all the boys at school in things like races and other stuff that he'd somehow come back. That he'd _want_ to come back." I finally admitted.

"Sam, that's really sad." Freddie sympathized with me. I just shrugged. That's all I ever could do in situations like these. Just shrug it off. It's not like I hated Freddie. Not really. But he did annoy me. People, in general, annoy me. All except one, and that's Carly.

"It's only sad if you're a pussy. Like yourself." I told him. He rolled his eyes at me in exasperation. I always did that. I always pushed people away when I really could actually use a friend to talk to. I sighed and leaned into the sofa resting my head back while closing my eyes.

"I'm sorry." I told him.

"What?" he asked, shocked. "What are you sorry for?"

"I don't know. I'm a real jerk to you sometimes. You're sitting here trying to help me and Carly and all I can do is call you a 'pussy.' I'm sorry." I could feel his eyes burning into me even though I dared not open mine.

"Uh, it's okay. I guess." He told me.

"No it's not. Every time someone shows the slightest bit of interest in my life or my _feelings_, I basically just kick them in the groin. I'm a fuck up." This time I could hear him cringe at my words. Freddie hated the word "fuck." It was one of my favorites.

"You're not a – a _fuck_ up. You're just, well, Sam." Was all he could say.

"Gee, thanks." I retorted.

"I didn't mean it as an insult." He quickly corrected himself. "I just meant that you have your own way of doing things. And that's not your fault." I opened my eyes and looked at him. He had scooted himself a little bit closer to me on the couch. I laughed inwardly as this reminded me of every stupid teen relationship movie. The boy scooting closer and closer to the girl on the sofa – or bench, whatever – until he was near enough to close the space between their mouths for a first kiss. I found this really amusing. Not sure why.

"Wanna make out?" I asked him simply. He choked on his own spit. _Score one for Sam_, I thought to myself.

"W-wh- _what_?!" he spat out.

"Relax. I'm just kidding." I laughed. "You should see the look on your face right now. Classic."

"I don't understand you." He replied shaking his head.

"And you never will." I smiled back.

A few minutes later a solemn looking Carly and Spencer arrived back home. Apparently this whole "saying goodbye" thing had been hard on them. Carly found her way to the couch and plopped down in the middle between me and Freddie.

"You okay?" Freddie asked her sweetly. He seemed more in tune with her emotions than I did. And that scared me.

"Yeah." She sighed out. "It's just another whole year before he's home again. It's a long time." She began to play with the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing. I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. I really didn't know what to say, but luckily Spencer saved me when he called out from the kitchen, holding a phone in his left hand.

"You guys hungry?" he asked with a little too much enthusiasm. I could tell he was trying to be strong for Carly.

"Not really." Carly replied softly.

"Well when you are, let me know. We'll order something special. My treat." He put the phone back on the hook and made his way over to where we were sitting, kissing the top of Carly's head. "Cheer up, kiddo." He told her before retreating back to his bedroom.

The three of us sat in silence for a few seconds longer before Carly suddenly perked up, clapping her hands together. "Well we should probably get ready for the show."

"Are you up for it?" Freddie asked. "We could always cancel. I'm sure the fans would understand."

"No way!" she said jumping up. "We didn't cancel when you had that stomach flu. Or when Sam's cat died. And we're not about to break our clean record just cause I'm a little down."

"Okay." Freddie agreed whilst standing. They both looked at me. I was still sitting, deep in concentration. I suppose I didn't notice at first when they started calling my name. I was too busy thinking about tonight and how I would finally come out and tell Carly that she was the only one for me. It took Carly actually physically shaking me to snap me out of it.

"Sam, are you okay? You haven't said anything since I got back."

"Sam?"

"SAM!"

"Huh? Oh. Sorry." I told her lamely.

That night's episode of iCarly went just as rehearsed. Shutting down your feelings and emotions to become this uber peppy, uber excited being for 30 minutes every week had become almost second nature to me. It seemed just as easy for Carly. The second Freddie shouted out, "And we're clear!" her demeanor completely changed. She went from all smiles and laughs to borderline depressed. I was really worried about her, but of course, all I could say was,

"I want some more ham!"

Freddie gave me this incredulous look like he couldn't believe I'd bring up something as trivial as ham when our best friend was standing just feet away on the verge of breaking down. I shrugged him off and went ahead downstairs. I was completely useless in situations like these and Freddie seemed like he could handle it himself, so why not just leave them be?

Focusing on nothing but my persistent hunger for some delicious pork flavored goodness, I headed from the foot of the stairs straight into the kitchen. Walking to the refrigerator, I saw something new pinned up on the front with a Mickey Mouse magnet that I didn't notice earlier. It was a picture of me. How strange yet appropriate. I pried the heavy stainless steel door open and glanced through the fridge's contents looking for my prize. No luck. I took a second look before beginning to rummage through all the food and drinks. No ham. Damn. Spencer must've had the last of it.

I swung the door shut a little harder than I meant to while letting out a low growl that seemed to replicate my stomach's rumble for my favorite food.

"You looking for the ham?" Spencer's voice caught me off guard as I spun around to see him perched on the sofa in the living room, the more than halfway eaten honey baked ham sitting on a platter on the coffee table in front of him.

Without speaking I walked to the living room and plopped myself down on the couch next to him. He handed me a piece he had just cut off and smiled. Spencer knew better than to get between me and my ham.

"Thanks." I sighed out as the delicious, delicious meat entered my mouth. After a few more bites (and involuntary moans,) I noticed Spencer was still looking at me.

"What?" I asked him. I swear I didn't mean for it to sound as rudely as it did.

"Nothing. It's just nice, that's all."

"What is?"

"Oh, just the fact that every day you come here, eat our food, drink our drinks, watch our TV, but you still come. You still show up. Even after you and Carly would have a fight, you were always just... here."

"Uh... okay?" I wasn't sure if he was trying to be sarcastic or not. This bothered me.

Spencer laughed. "It's like the tides. Or how the sun always rises and sets in the same places each day. It's predictable. But nice."

"Are you on something? Let me guess, weed, right?" He laughed at me again.

"Do you smell any weed?" he asked. I was about to answer, but stopped. To say "no," would imply that I knew what weed smelled like in the first place. Somewhere I didn't feel like going with Spence. Instead I rolled my eyes and chomped down on some more ham.

"Sam, you should know that this _predictability _has a calming effect on me and Carly alike. It's like, zen, you know? Say if one day, just out of the blue you decided to stop showing up… Well, it'd really mess with us."

This seriously confused me. Spencer saw this confusion and gave me a gentle pat on the arm.

"I found this." he said, grabbing a folded up piece of paper inside his pocket and handing it to me. "It was on the floor. You must have dropped it or something."

I felt a jolt make its way through my stomach as I realized what he was handing me. It was my backup. Plan B. If I couldn't go through with telling Carly how I felt tonight, I was going to leave her this note before I left in the morning. I didn't realize it was no longer in my pocket where it belonged.

The note itself was fairly vague and non-descript. It said something along the lines of "Carly, you're my best friend in the world, but I've just gotta get through some of my own stuff right now. I'm in a bad place. I think we should just stop hanging out for a little while. Maybe put iCarly on hiatus so I can get my head straight. I really hope you understand - Sam."

"It would crush her. And I think you know this." Spencer told me calmly. I put the folded note back inside my pant's pocket and swallowed hard.

"Look, you don't have to tell me what's going on. It's none of my business. But I think that if you gave that note to Carly... well, I think that it'd be bad. Can you promise you won't do it? You won't leave her hanging? Not like this, anyway?" he pointed down to where my pocket now concealed my Plan B. I nodded feebly.

"I wasn't going to give it to her." I told him. Suddenly my mouth felt dry. Maybe it was my nerves, maybe it was the ham. "I mean, I was. But only if... only as a..." I trailed off. Now Spencer was the one nodding.

"Well if you wanna, you know, talk about it, I'm always here." he patted my arm again and I couldn't help it. All this raw, unadulterated emotion that I had been keeping pinned up inside of me these past few months. All the hurt and unrequited love. All the secrets and me trying to hide things from her, in fear that she might find out. Well I guess it all finally caught up to me. I broke down. Hard. I began to cry. No, scratch that. I began to sob.

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't cry." Spencer soothed. He pulled me into a sort of sideways hug, both of us sitting on the sofa. I sobbed even harder. I cried like a baby and I'm not proud of it. It was just something I had to do. Something I had to get out of my system.

"It's okay." he told me as I used his shoulder as my own personal handkerchief, letting his cotton t-shirt catch most of my tears.

I hate the fact that I can get so emotional sometimes. I've only ever seen Carly cry once before. It was right after her mom died, when we were in the 6th grade. That month her dad was to be stationed off somewhere in Hawaii. He had to go, he had no choice. This left Carly virtually alone with no one but Spencer. That was a hard year for all of the Shays, but Carly was strong. She's always strong. And it just makes me feel worse for crying over things so trivial.

Man. All this self hate is _so_ middle school. Why can't I just grow the fuck up?

"Woah, what's going on?" Freddie asked from the bottom of the staircase, Carly in his wake. I quickly wiped my eyes with my shirt sleeve and looked up over the couch. But there was no fooling them, it was evident that I was just crying my eyes out on Spencer's shoulder. No hiding it now.

"Oh my god, Sam! Are you okay?!" Carly asked as she rushed to my side. Leave it to Carls to put others before herself. I knew she was hurting and for her to be worried over _me_? The guilt was just too much.

"I'm fine. I, uh. I gotta go." I said standing, wiping my face with my hands once more. Carly gave me a confused look.

"I thought you were spending the night…?" she started, but before I was forced to answer, Spencer stood up for me.

"I think it might be best that Sam goes home. She's not feeling too well. She can stay another night." He told her. Carly's expression didn't lighten as she appraised the situation, but she had no choice but to accept it.

"Oh, well okay. I, er, hope you feel better Sam." She looked at me with eyes full of hurt and chagrin. She knew something was up. And the fact I wouldn't say – and even had Spencer lying for me – seemed to bother her. A lot. "Call me later, okay?" She asked, sounding a bit more forced than normal.

"Sure." I said while grabbing my jacket from the hook at the door. "Later."

And with that, I left for the long, chilly walk back home. Little did I know that would be one of the last times I ever saw Carly again. Alive.

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**_Ehhh, I'm not totally happy with this story so far. Just doesn't seem "right" to me, you know? But I do have big plans for it. Plans that I hope to soon turn into a chapter two. Let me know what you think. :)_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it's taken me so freaking long to update. I've been without a computer for the past few weeks . **

**Anyway, on with the story!**

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That night, as much as I tried, I couldn't bring myself to call her. To talk to Carly would mean I'd have to give her answers. Something that I thought I was ready for. But, as it turns out, I'm just a coward. Pure and simple.

I thought that a note – another note – might be the way to go. I could confess my love for her. How she's all I can think about, all I _want_ to think about. How living without her in the way I want so desperately, the way I desire, is killing me little by little. How every time she accidentally brushes against me, or let's me rest my head in her lap when we watch movies on the sofa downstairs, or fixes the bangs of my hair between classes at school, well, that all those things make me crazy. They make me feel in places I've never felt before. They make my stomach do flip-flops and little butterflies flutter up through my chest to my throat, making it hard for me to form coherent sentences. They make my head swim and it just feels awesome. Like a drug I just can't get enough of. I'd want to tell her how I know we could never be. That I know she doesn't feel the same. That as much as she tried, she never would. It'd be like forcing herself to love Freddie. It'd be horrible for her. And that I'm okay with that. As long as she _knows_. That's all I need.

So that's what I did. I wrote a letter to Carly, almost replicating the above entirely. I sealed it into one of the envelopes my mom used to pay the bills in, before I had to start doing it. What can I say? The woman can't even remember to _feed_ me. I can't count the amount of times our power/water/everything has been turned off and shut down cause she can't freaking remember to turn those fancy child support and disability checks of hers into something useful. Like heat, water, and electricity.

But that's beside the point. I decided that I would give Carly the note at school on Monday. Right at the end of the day so I could (hopefully) get far enough away from her before she reads it and thus ruins everything we've worked up to in the 8 years we've been best friends. I wouldn't be able to face that. Like I said, I'm a coward.

With the letter in my hand, I got up from my desk and placed it carefully on my bedside table. I stripped off my clothes and changed into my pajamas – a shower could always wait. I turned back the covers on my twin sized bed, got in and snuggled down. I clapped my hands twice to turn out my lamp. (And yes, I am one of the few people in this world that still uses a Clapper to turn on and off my lights. Why would this surprise you? I thought it was fairly clear that on top of being a coward, I'm very lazy.)

I laid in silence for a few minutes, staring at the shadows cast through my window from the street lamps outside. It was then I realized that I wasn't even remotely tired. I looked over at my Girly Cow themed alarm clock – a present from Carly on our 4th friendship-aversary, I might add – and saw why. It was only just now going on 8 o'clock. Sighing, I clapped my hands twice more, turning the lights back on and reached over to pick up the letter again. I spent I'm not sure how long just starring at the blank envelope. The blank envelope that held my heart and soul on the inside.

I decided that under my pillow would be a better place to keep it. Laying it there, I tossed and turned a few more times in bed trying to find a comfortable position. No luck. Frustrated, I threw the covers off of me and jumped out of bed, walking pointedly to my desk on the other side of my fairly small bedroom. I ripped open the top drawer and grabbed from it my PearPod, the little white earbuds wrapped tightly around the sides of the mp3 player. Another gift from Carly. She knew how much I loved music and how much I envied her PearPod and PearPhone. She always had the best of everything.

So last Christmas, she bought me one. She filled it up with a bunch of her favorite songs from her music library on her PearTunes account and gave me the gift like it was literally nothing. A gift that I know cost over $200. And what did I give her? A picture of the two of us, stuck in a frame I stole out of Principle Franklin's office the last time I had been in there. She loved it though, just the same. She knows that my mom and I aren't the wealthiest people in the world and she never holds that against me. With Carly, it's truly the thought that counts. Just another thing that makes me love her even more.

I got back in bed, turned out the lights and placed the signature white earbuds in my ears. I scrolled through the various songs – a mixture of everything - until I stumbled upon one I hadn't really listened to before. It was one of Carly's songs. "Goodbye My Lover" by James Blunt. Usually his voice makes me cringe, but the title had caught my attention so I clicked the "play" button and let the music drown me.

As I listened carefully to the lyrics of this man pouring his entire heart out into song, I began to cry. Not because the lyrics fit my situation perfectly, cause they really didn't. Only in some places. But because his emotions seemed to match mine. The way he felt for whoever he was signing about, well that was how I felt about Carly.

_"You touched my heart you touched my soul. You changed my life and all my goals. And love is blind and that I knew when, my heart was blinded by you. I've kissed your lips and held your hand. Shared your dreams and shared your bed. I know you well, I know your smell. I've been addicted to you._

_Goodbye my lover._

_Goodbye my friend._

_You have been the one._

_You have been the one for me."_

God, I've gone soft lately. Usually, I'd laugh at a song like this. I'd think it was cheesy and gross and compare it, somehow, to one of Freddie's many flaws. But now, now I just think it's beautiful. It's pure and honest and everything I would wish I could put into a song for Carly. I immediately put the song on repeat and listened to it over and over again, until finally, and I don't know when, but I drifted to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, the song was still playing. My ears hurt a little from the earbuds and I felt like I had some sort of a hangover. Stiff and headachy, I turned the music off and slowly got out of bed. It was almost noon. Ugh, for someone who wasn't tired the night before, I sure slept long enough. I walked out of my bedroom without even bothering to get dressed and headed for the kitchen. Save some spoiled milk and old bologna, the fridge was empty. It was then I remembered another reason why I frequented the Shay household so often. Food.

I turned away from the kitchen to find my mom. Maybe she'd let us order in. After a few minutes of searching, I found her outside on the patio to our backyard in her bikini trying to entice the neighbors' cat to come over to her for a "visit."

"What are you doing?" I asked her from the door.

"I miss Mr. Tiggles." she told me, not looking away from the Tabby that was now perched on our fence. Mr. Tiggles was our old cat. He fell off the roof a couple of weeks ago and broke his back. We had to put him to sleep. But honestly, I think he did it intentionally. I know I would jump if I were stuck here with us lot.

"Why are you obsessed with cats?" I questioned, shaking my head.

"I'm not. But if you must know, they keep good company. Especially when your daughter rarely shows up at home for longer than she's forced to." She looked back at me with an expression I couldn't place. Hurt? Regret? Amusement? I can never be sure with this woman.

I caught her stare and looked at her for a few moments before breaking away, gazing over to where the tabby cat had just been. It was gone.

"We're out of food" I informed her. "Should we order in or do I need to go get some?"

"Let's order in. Like old times." She too looked back to where the cat once sat and sighed when she saw it had left. She headed towards the door and I gave her some room to get through.

"What are you up for?" she asked.

"I really don't care, to be honest."

"How about Alberto's? We haven't had his tacos in forever. I've missed them."

"Me and Carly ordered Alberto's in the other day." I informed her.

"Oh." She seemed disappointed, but honestly, I feel little to no sympathy for my mom these days. She was never there for me, so why should she start caring now? Why should _I_ start caring now?

"Chinese?" she suggested. I shrugged.

"Fine by me. I'm gonna go get dressed." I left for my bedroom and picked some clothes from the hamper that didn't smell completely disgusting. After I dressed, I sat on the edge of my bed and just stared around my room, thinking. A few moments later, my cell phone went off. I walked over to where it rested on my desk. It was a text message from Carly. I felt my heart flutter as I opened the phone and read her words.

_"hey."_ was all it said.

_"Hey yourself."_ I texted back. A couple of seconds later, the phone buzzed with a new message.

_"u feelin better?" _It always made me laugh at how informal Carly's texts were.

_"Yeah. What about you? How are you feeling?"_

"_im ok. spencers freakin out tho. says he made 2 many muffins or something. he wants to kno if u wanna come over 4 a late breakfast?" _I chewed on my bottom lip some before answering.

_"Nah. My mom just ordered in some Chinese. I think she's trying to bond with me or something. Maybe later?" _I waited forever for her response.

_"yea. sure. later." _I didn't know whether to take her last word "later" as an agreement with my last message, meaning "later would be fine" or as a goodbye. Either way, it seemed like our conversation was over, so placed my phone back down. It was almost out of batteries and I had no idea where the charger was, so the less I used it, the better.

The rest of the weekend went by incredibly lamely. An awkward three-way instant messenger chat with Carly and Freddie about the next webisode of iCarly on Sunday night was the only contact with the outside world I really had. The rest of my time was spent staring at that blank -and now severally crumpled and frayed - envelope that held my love letter/confession to Carly. That and silently contemplating a bus trip to Vancouver to get my mind off of things. To run away. To make it so there's no way I could possibly give that note to Carly. This was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. Let Carly know how I feel with a good chance of ruining everything or explode. Those where my only two options at the moment. And I needed to decide soon – school started in less than an hour.

Taking my time to get there, I walked slowly down the surprisingly sunny streets of downtown Seattle with my right hand in my pocket, protecting my letter. I would usually go to Carly's first thing every morning. Grab a bagel and my best friend and head to Ridgeway High with her and the dork from next door. But today, I thought it best to go alone. More time to think. To consider every possible outcome of the next 8 hours of my life.

Even with my slow pace, I ended up at school somewhat early. I guess that's what I get for leaving thirty minutes earlier than usual, but can you blame me? I'm nervous, eager, and fucking scared all at the same time.

I immediately noticed Carls and Freddie hadn't made it yet. Sitting on the front steps to the school, I waited for my friends to show.

Ten or so minutes later, they casually strolled up the walkway to the school, Groovy Smoothies in hand.

"Guess I didn't get the memo." I said to them – mostly Carly, nodding towards their giant Styrofoam cups.

"Freddie surprised me with one this morning. And besides, you didn't stop by. We could have gotten you one if we had known you were actually showing up to school today." Carly told me, a little more bitter than usual.

I just shrugged and stared pointedly at her drink. God, I love Groovy Smoothies. They're so freaking delicious. She looked from me to where my eyes were locked onto her smoothie and finally broke a smile.

"Here." She said in fake exasperation. "Finish mine." And that set the mood for the rest of the day. It all, for the most part, was well. I still had my confession, and Carly seemed to have something on her mind too, but lunch wasn't nearly as awkward as our first confrontation that morning, though it was no where up to the usual Carly/Sam standards.

By fifth period I had chickened out of giving Carly the letter, by 6th, I had decided to give it to her again and by seventh, I was just as conflicted as ever. Getting out of my seat as the bell rang for dismissal, I noticed Carly already waiting at the door of my Sociology classroom, one of the only classes we didn't share together.

"Hey." She smiled at me.

"Hey." I barely managed to squeak out. "Where's uh… where's the dork?" I asked her.

"Freddie? Oh, I don't know." She replied, looking around the hallway like she didn't notice his presence was missing until I brought it up. "Why?"

"Just, you know, wondering." I told her lamely. We began to make our way towards the double doors to exit the school.

"Sam? If there was something wrong with, you know,_ us_, you'd tell me right?"

The way she said 'us' like we were a couple made my breath catch in my throat. "Y-yeah. Of course."

"Well then what's wrong? You've been… distant these last few days. I don't know what I did to make you upset, but I'm sorry. Really, I didn't mean –" I cut her off by laughing. "What's so funny?"

"You think this is _your_ fault?!" I inquired while trying to keep my laughter to a minimum. "You think that _you're_ the one that's done something wrong? Oh Carly…"

"I'm confused." She stated.

"Ha ha, you and me both."

I became a little more self conscious of my laughter as she continued to stare at me like a being from another world. I mumbled a quick sorry, straightened my face and took in a deep breath.

"Here." I told her, pulling out my heart and soul from my pocket and handing it to her in the form of a letter. Everything seemed to slow down as I watched her reach for the envelope. Her hand briefly grazed mine and an electric shock made its way from my finger tips to the rest of my body, ending in a particular region I don't feel too comfortable talking about.

As soon as the letter left my hands, everything sped back to normal.

"What's this?" she asked, turning over the envelope to see the word "Carly" written on the front in sloppy, yet swirly cursive writing, an addition I made sometime during 3rd period math.

I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand, something I always do when I'm nervous. "It's a letter. To you. From, er, me." I responded.

Carly just had to go for it. She began to open it.

"Wait!" I yelled out a little louder and more dramatically than intended. "Don't open it yet. Wait. Just… wait."

"Um, okay…" she looked at me with, if possible, an even more confused expression. But some part of her most have understood how important this was to me because she said, "I'll read it when I get home. Is that good?"

I vaguely remember nodding. We hugged goodbye and I fled the school building and began running home. I, Samantha Puckett, only run on three different occasions. From the cops, to chase and beat up a nerd, or when I'm scared shitless. Like now.

Fighting the urge to puke the whole way, I finally managed to get to my house. The walk to school usually takes a good 20 or 30 minutes. I got back in less than 10.

When I stepped through the door, I noticed a note laying on the seat of my couch addressed 'Sam.' It was from my mom. It said she had gone out with an old friend from high school. Assuming it was an old friend from high school that liked to drink, she wouldn't be home for a good while.

My stomach continued lurching and this time I couldn't stop it. I quickly sprinted to the bathroom and threw up, barely making it. I couldn't help thinking that I had just ruined everything. My friendship with Carly, the webshow, my life. It was all connected.

"What the hell did I just do?" I asked myself aloud. After wiping my mouth and getting a drink of water, I decided to go lie down. Let the depression and regret sweep over me. Carly would be home and reading that letter any minute now. And my life would be over.

I lied there staring at the ceiling for all of ten minutes before the house phone rang. I knew it was Carly. I knew this and still chose to ignore the call. I decided that if she wanted to chew me out or break off our friendship, I wanted it to be in person. She can at least give me that much.

The phone rang over and over and over again. Eventually, I just unplugged the damn thing. She'd get the message.

I went back to my room, drew my curtains, and went back to bed, falling asleep this time.

I dreamt Carly read the letter found it hilariously funny. She went to school the next day and read it out loud to everyone. They all laughed. She thought it was a joke. I could only wish that was true now.

I was awakened by a very loud banging noise accompanied by the doorbell sometime later. I looked at my clock – it was 8:45. How long had I been asleep? I slumped out of bed and out of my bedroom towards the front door. My mom still wasn't home. No surprise there though.

Bracing myself in front of the door, I took a deep breath waiting to see Carly on the other side, livid at me for ruining it all. I slowly twisted the knob and opened it.

It wasn't Carly standing there, but Freddie. And he was crying. He looked like he had been for awhile.

"Wow Freddork, what's wrong with y –"

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" his sudden outburst startled me.

"Um, I had a headache so I came home to sleep after school…"

"I've been calling you for the past two hours! Why haven't you answered!?" He was seriously upset. I've never seen him, or anyone for that matter, this upset.

"Oh, my cell's dead. And I sorta… unplugged the home phone." After hearing this, he threw up his arms in exasperation and let out a rage-filled growl. He was actually starting to scare me. He brushed past me and into my house. I don't think I can ever remember a time that he's even been in my house before. He turned to look at me.

"Freddie. What is it? What's wrong?"

"Carly."

"What about Carly?"

Freddie slumped down onto my couch, defeated. He began crying into his hands. I didn't know what to do.

"What _about_ Carly?" I asked again, my voice quivering slightly. I'll admit it, I was scared. Terrified of what he was about to tell me. He's taking this pretty hard. Carly must have sent him over here to end our friendship. It was understandable, but damn. He's so upset. I didn't think our friendship or iCarly meant THAT much to him.

"Freddie." Was all I said. He looked up from his hands, tears and snot all over the place. I grimaced a little. Boys are disgusting. "Tell me."

"She's dead."


End file.
